


Master to Child

by CantatriceX (Cantatrice18)



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Assault, Dominance, Gen, Nudity, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:38:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/CantatriceX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alois, haunted by memories of the Earl's abuse, decides to take back control and become the aggressor. He uses Hannah as his victim, but as her feelings towards him slowly become clear he finds himself torn between the need to inflict pain and the need for comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Master to Child

He awoke in a cold sweat, staring around the room in horror. The dark shadows slowly settled into the familiar shapes of his armoire and dressing table. He was in his own bedroom.

He spat over the side of the bed, disgusted. Every time he closed his eyes, the memories came back. The old Earl had been dead for months now, killed by Claude as he slept. Surely it was about time that the dreams stopped. And yet he still felt the Earl’s knobby, greasy hands on his skin and the throbbing pain that had been present for every moment of the Earl’s torment.

There was a light rap on the door and Claude entered, staring down at Alois. “Master, is anything wrong?”

Alois shook his head emphatically. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong!” he shouted. “I’m fine, except for those cloddish servants, tramping around. They’re what woke me. Tell them to piss off!”

He pulled the covers around himself once more and was about to turn away when a thought came to him. “Claude…?”

The butler stopped and waited. Alois’ mind was racing, and when he sat up his eyes were alight with excitement. “Claude, bring me Hannah.”

The butler left and Alois jumped out of bed, going to the window and staring at the sliver of moon shining above the trees. He was always the victim, always. He’d always stayed silent and borne whatever depravity the Earl thought up next. He’d never had control.

And then there was Hannah. The girl was absolutely servile, doing everything she was told. He could see nothing behind her eyes that showed fear, or hatred, or anything at all. She was unreadable. But he could change that.

If he made her scream, if he got her to beg at his feet for mercy, then he would be in control. If he could just see a glimpse of fright in her, he would finally feel like the master.

Claude returned, with Hannah in tow. She stared meekly at the ground, making Alois hate her all the more. “Claude, get her clothes off.”

She made no effort to resist as Claude’s deft hands stripped her bare in a matter of seconds. She stood naked before them, still timid and submissive. Alois made a quick motion with his head and Claude placed his hands on Hannah’s shoulders, forcing her to kneel. Alois pointed to the door. “Claude, out, and don’t come back until morning. Leave her here.”

Claude bowed and left. Alois circled Hannah, examining her from every angle. She was in her early twenties, curvaceous rather than slender. Her shoulders were narrow and her long neck tempted him. He wrapped his hands around it, feeling her pulse beneath his fingers. He scowled – even her heart rate was slow. He threw her to the floor and kicked her, enjoying her soft cry of pain. Grabbing her by the hair, he dragged her to her feet and pulled her towards the bed. Shoving her roughly down across it, he went to his nightstand. He’d stolen a knife from dinner the day after his first dream and had kept it hidden. It had made him feel safer, somehow, though he knew the memories couldn’t be stopped with a weapon. Now he grabbed it from the drawer and looked around, searching for something he could use on her. He knew he couldn’t inflict the kind of pain he’d faced from the Earl – that would take years of debauchery and wickedness. Besides, he’d never encountered the challenge of a female body before, and especially not an adult, fully grown woman. He smiled triumphantly as his eyes landed on a tall brass candlestick. He ought to be able to find something to do with it, even if it was only used to beat her with. He climbed up onto the bed himself and straddled her, knife in his right hand and candlestick in his left. She had not moved from where he’d pushed her, and her passivity made him want to scream. He laid the candlestick across her throat and applied pressure, enjoying the sounds she made as she struggled for air. Choking he could understand – the Earl had loved choking him, and he felt a sort of vindictive pleasure to be the one doing it now. “Hannah, you’ve grown very tiresome, you know.”

She couldn’t answer with the pressure on her throat, so he let up a bit. She coughed weakly, then whispered, “I’m sorry, master.”

He scowled. “Sorry isn’t enough.” He slid the knife across one of her breasts, watching as a thin red line of blood formed. “You’ll pay for being so inept. I have to put up with you, so I get to use you as I want.”

She stared at him without a hint of resentment. “Yes master, as you wish.”

His fingers tightened around the candlestick. Didn’t she have any emotions at all? He slid himself back until he was at her knees, forcing them apart and sitting between them. Reaching forward, he ran the cold metal along the inside of her thigh. “Hannah, do you know what I’m going to do to you?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, master.”

He clenched his teeth and ran the knife quickly along her abdomen, leaving a bright red slash in his wake. “Do you know how much I’m going to hurt you? Do you?”

She nodded again. “Yes, master.”

He snarled and leapt forward, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. “Then why aren’t you scared, damn you? Why don’t you run, or struggle, or just scream? Why don’t you fight?”

He held his knife to her throat and waited, breathless. She looked at him sadly. “I don’t want to.”

He frowned, confused. “Don’t want to what?”

“Don’t want to run from you, or fight you. You can hurt me as much as you want.”

He stared at her in horror. “You…what? You want me to do this, then? You, you like it?”

She shook her head. “I just want you to be happy. I care for you, love you. If I can take away some of your pain, then –“

She stopped as a tear splashed across her cheek. Alois was crying.

“Master, please don’t cry.” She sat up, taking him in her arms. “Please master, beat me if it makes you feel better. I cannot stand to see you hurting because of me.”

For the first time he saw her emotions written clearly across her face. She held him close against her, her gentle fingers brushing the tears away from his eyes. She looked miserable, and he laughed half-heartedly. He’d finally gotten her to show weakness.

He felt the knife still clenched in his right hand, and he raised it until he could rest it directly between her breasts. “You’re saying I could kill you, and you wouldn’t even cry out for help?”

She shook her head. “I’ll gladly die, if that’s what you want.” Her eyes shifted to one side. “But…”

He shoved her back onto the pillows, bearing down on her with the knife. “You are afraid after all. You do want to run, to save yourself.” He’d thought for a moment she’d truly cared enough to do anything for him, but the idea was ludicrous. He’d hurt her, tortured her in the past, and had intended to go even further tonight. There was no way she could, could ‘love’ him.

She met his eyes and her gaze caught him, making him unable to look away. Reaching up with a trembling hand she ran her fingers through his blonde hair. “I’ll die by your hand, but I would rather die protecting you.”

She closed her eyes and leaned back, exposing her neck to him. He stared down at her body, seeing bruises and cuts he hadn’t bothered to notice before. An uncomfortable feeling welled within him, one he hadn’t felt in a long time – Guilt. It was one thing to hurt a cowering, weakling servant, one who hated and feared him, but to mistreat someone who loved him…

Hannah was still waiting calmly for him to strike. His weapons dropped to the floor with a clatter and he fell onto her body, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. “If you really love me…” He was crying again, and he hated himself for it. His strength had gone, all of his anger and courage, and he felt like a helpless child again. “If you really want to protect me, please,” his voice was muffled as he pressed himself more tightly against her, “Please make the dreams stop.”

She kissed the top of his head. “I will, master. I promise.”

Claude woke him the next morning when the sun was already shining through the bedroom windows. He struggled to sit up and felt something holding him back. He looked down and realized with a jolt that he was still entwined in Hannah’s arms. He’d been with her all night; her body had sheltered him from the memories.

He slipped out of her grasp without waking her and allowed Claude to dress him. When they’d finished, the butler looked down at the naked woman with distaste. “I’ll get this out of your way, master.”

Alois nodded, distracted. “Yes, send her back to work.” He headed towards the door but paused, looking back at the bed. Hannah’s pale hair glowed in the sunlight. She’d felt so warm and safe as he’d rested against her. He wasn’t sure what to think about her professions of love, but she’d kept her promise. “Claude,” he called back over his shoulder, “have Hannah brought to me every night from now on.”

The butler straightened, looking darkly down at the sleeping servant. “Yes, your highness.”

In her dreams, Hannah smiled.


End file.
